“Arnold,” she said with a point of her finger at one of the first men that Lawrence had invited into her suffering.
The man shook his head hard, tears spilling from his eyes as he begged behind his gag, his chest heaving with the force of his sobs, but he was put out of his misery soon enough as Kit pulled the trigger, the force of the bullet making the man’s head jerk back before he crumpled to the ground.
She watched his descent in surprise. Seconds was all it had taken to end his life—until he was nothing more than a shell.
As she had felt once …
The moment was made even sweeter as their looks of fear were turned on her because they realized that she held power over them now—even if her weapon was the man before her.
Luna pointed to another, and another.
It didn’t matter that they tried to shuffle away, to escape a death that was inevitable, but Kit’s aim never faltered.
By the time there was only one left, Luna was ready raise her hand once more, but paused when she saw just who kneeled before her. There were just some faces one couldn’t forget, and Benjamin’s was one of them.
Oh, how eager he had been the first time Lawrence brought him into that special room of pain.
I’m not a monster, he had said with a gentle smile, as though his attempt at faux sincerity would move her.
You’ll enjoy it, he promised when he’d patted the spot beside him.
I’ll take care of you, he whispered as he grabbed hold of her chain and forced her into a position of his liking.
But it wasn’t enough that he had wanted to use her, but he had gleefully called Lawrence over and very soon, his gentleness had turned to agonizing pain, and his ‘I’ll take care of you,’ meant beating the shit out of her until she couldn’t move.
Unlike the others, he wasn’t begging for his life, nor were his eyes wet with tears. If anything, he looked angry.
Furious even.
Kit didn’t stop her as she went to the man, glad that he was restrained so she could pull the cloth from his mouth.
It was barely out of his mouth before he was spewing, “Stupid fucking whore.”
Luna flinched at the venom in his voice, but she didn’t back down, she didn’t curl into herself as she once would have.
But even as she stood her ground, those words still hurt—a reminder that no matter where she went or how much time passed, that word would always follow her around.
It hadn’t been that long since she was locked in the Kendall Estate, forced to do another’s bidding—weeks, in fact. Both he and Lawrence had loved using that title with her.
Whore.
As though that was all she was, and all she would ever be.
The word kept echoing over and over in her head, freezing her in place until she felt a hand slip beneath the fall of her hair, cupping her nape. She shouldn’t have known Kit’s touch, not this soon, but as quickly as she jumped in surprise at the sudden feel on his hand on her, she was settling again.
“Look at me,” he said next to her ear, not releasing his hold even as she slowly turned, aware that Benjamin was still spitting insults.
Gray eyes that seemed more blue in the dim lighting were trained on her, forcing her to focus on only him as he uttered one word.
“Breathe,” he said, as though it were that simple—as though his fingers weren’t curled around her throat.
As though because he commanded it, she was supposed to do it.
That notion baffled her, but Luna did draw in a deep breath, doing as he’d asked—the blood rushing in her ears finally receding.
“What do you want, Luna?”
She shook her head hard. “I don’t—”
“I don’t know isn’t good enough for me. I won’t assume what you’re thinking—I don’t want to. Now, tell me what you want.”
“He doesn’t deserve to die quickly,” she said, only loud enough for Kit to hear. “He should have to suffer the way I suffered.”
Kit’s eyes darted over her face a moment before he looked over his shoulder and barked an order that sent the Wild Bunch into movement. They slipped past them, grabbing hold of Benjamin and dragged him across the floor to a steel table bolted to the floor.
Forcing him down onto it, they restrained his wrists, then his ankles, and another one over his neck. Then, they took knives and cut the man’s clothes away until he was completely naked.
All the while, he hurled insults.
After he was strapped in place, the Wild Bunch exited the dungeon, leaving the three of them alone.
Once they were alone, Kit looked back at her. “There’s a balance—give and take, if you will—in this world of ours. When something is taken from you, it’s only right that you receive something in return.”
“An eye for an eye,” she said, earning a small smile in return.
“I can’t give you what he took, but I can give you something else. I can give you his life.”
When he dropped his hand, she almost felt cold without him.
Stepping away from her, he plucked a stool from a nearby corner, setting it a few feet from the table and gave it a pat.